


Mars, Minerva, Mercury

by DangersUntoldHardshipsUnnumbered



Series: Many Little AUs for the Purpose of Exploding the Lilshotgun Tag [5]
Category: Warrior Nun (TV)
Genre: AU, F/F, Historical
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:07:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26269972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DangersUntoldHardshipsUnnumbered/pseuds/DangersUntoldHardshipsUnnumbered
Summary: Mary and Lilith as gladiators in ancient Rome.
Relationships: Sister Lilith/Shotgun Mary (Warrior Nun)
Series: Many Little AUs for the Purpose of Exploding the Lilshotgun Tag [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1905607
Comments: 15
Kudos: 35





	Mars, Minerva, Mercury

Lilith always takes training a little too seriously.

Mary takes her time lacing up her sandals, because she knows it makes Lilith angry. It can’t be helped; Lilith is oddly beautiful when she’s angry. She fights better that way.

Mary licks her dusty lips, the Roman sun parching her mouth and baking her dark skin. She could do worse than fighting for the biggest lanista in Rome, surrounded by sweaty, shirtless women swinging wooden training swords at one another. They’re no challenge, mostly. Except Lilith.

“Are you going to stop delaying and perhaps face me sometime today?” Lilith is getting impatient. Mary likes her that way. She picks up her wooden sword and a roundshield, saunters into position like she’s got nowhere to be.

“I’m getting to it, my love,” Mary says. Lilith hates it when she calls her this.

Lilith says nothing at this, just scowls, and stamps a foot.

The moment Mary has her position, shield up, sword raised, Lilith comes tearing at her, a battle cry on her lips.

Mary enjoys fighting Lilith. She’s the only girl here who ever makes it hard for her. There swords clack against each other, striking their shields. Mary feels the impact in her arms when Lilith raises a block. Rome likes their female gladiators, and they are two of the best of the school.

Lilith gets a jab past Mary’s shield that almost strikes her ribs, missing by only inches. “You’re sloppy,” she says, looking triumphant.

Mary lets go of her shieldboss and grabs the wooden blade with her bare hand. She yanks Lilith in close, so that they’re panting in each other’s faces, and the half inch of Lilith’s wooden shield is the only thing separating them. “You’re arrogant,” Mary says. She brings her sword hand around and cracks Lilith in the shoulder with it.

Lilith grunts in pain and jerks her sword free of Mary’s hand. “Cheap!” she declares. “You wouldn’t be able to do that if it was a real blade.”

Mary gives her a smile. “You’re just mad you didn’t think of it first.”

Lilith resumes her position: sword raised, shield up. The wrath of whatever Roman gods she prefers burns in her eyes; Mars, Minerva, Mercury? Mary can never remember which one is which.

Mary has no use for the Roman gods, mostly. She prefers her own; Set, Amun, Osiris. She understands them. Her gods are not petty and small like people, the way the Roman gods are, and she prefers that.

She came from Alexandria because the arenas here paid the best. She didn’t spend long in the ratholes of Greece and Illyria. She fought her way up. Fast. Mary’s gods are mysterious to people like Lilith, but Mary trusts them.

Mary comes in, fast, bashes her shield head-on into Lilith’s. Lilith expected this. She head-butts her over the tops of their facing shields.

Mary mutters a curse. “You have a very hard head.”

“Funny. I was about to say the same.”

“You’re in good form today, my love.”

“Stop calling me that!”

Lilith doesn’t belong to anyone, so far as Mary knows. She hates when Mary addresses her in such a familiar way.

They fight until the Berber who trains them comes and separates them.

“Declare a winner,” Lilith demands.

“No.” He looks between them. “Go clean yourselves.”

Lilith throws her wooden weapons into the dust.

Mary is grinning. Not losing isn’t enough for Lilith. She wanted to win. “You need some wine,” Mary says.

Lilith turns and stomps away without responding, disgusted at the result.

Mary drops her weapons and follows after her, looking at the tan skin of Lilith’s bare back as she walks, the lean muscles of her calves criss-crossed by the leather laces of her sandals. After a moment, she jogs a little to catch up. “How come you don’t like me?”

“You’re not serious about any of this.”

“I’m serious about all of it,” Mary responds. “I think you just enjoy hating me and I would like to understand why.”

Lilith stops, wheels on her, and glares at her. “We’re going to have to fight each other with real bronze swords at some point, you know. And there’s going to have to be a winner. You know what that means.”

Mary sees the vulnerability in her glare, though. She places a hand on Lilith’s sun-baked shoulder. “You don’t want to get attached, because what if you have to kill me?”

Lilith shrugs her hand off. “Is that so odd?”

“Odd? No.” Mary smiles at her. “But I like you.”

Lilith seems confused by this. “Why? I’m deliberately rude to you. Yesterday, I knocked you into the dirt and split your lip.”

Mary nods and licks her lower lip, tasting the little rough line on it where Lilith punched her yesterday. “Yeah. You did. Not many people can do that. It’s admirable.”

Lilith steps a little closer, and Mary can smell the sweat on her, the swelter, the frustration. “What do you want from me, Egyptian?”

Mary shrugs. “Friendship?”

Lilith shakes her head. “No. You’re lying.”

“No, I’m not. And, if you were amenable, to bring you to my bed.”

Lilith’s hands clench at her sides.

Mary’s gaze travels the length of Lilith’s body; the strong legs, the bronze-hard stomach, the small, flawless breasts, long neck, comely face. Lips that Mary would very much like to kiss. “You’ve had women before, haven’t you?”

Lilith flushes. “Of course,” she says, but Mary doesn’t believe her.

“Good. Now you can have a real one.”

“And then what?”

“And then what? Why does there need to be an ‘and then?’ Why should we waste our time with anyone lesser than each other?”

Lilith’s breathing has become heavier. “So you think you’re that good, do you?”

“I know I am.” Mary leans in, speaks softly in her ear. “I will discover the taste of every inch of you and drink you like wine. My fingers will learn and pluck out every last one of your secrets and draw them on your body until you’ve forgot your name. Don’t presume to doubt me, Lilith. I am not like anyone else you’ve met before.”

Mary has always felt the truth; that Lilith’s anger towards her masked desire. Lilith tucks her lower lip between her teeth, considering Mary’s words. The clacking of swords and the shouting of the other women fade into the background, the smell of sage and olive oil mixes with the sweat on both their bodies as half an eternity ticks by.

Lilith speaks.

“Baths. Meet me there. Five minutes. Bring that wine you mentioned. Come ready to prove yourself.”


End file.
